So this story has been stuck in my head for a little while and just needed to escape. Please read and review!
Some people struggle to find out who they are, where they're going, and what they want to be. Rachel Berry knew what she wanted from the time she was four. She had walked in the doors at Dancer's Corner, learned a few ballet moves, and it just stuck. She yearned for the spotlight, for the attention, for the applause. Twelve years later, she was the lead of her school's show choir, landed the lead role in the school musical, and she never looked back. Now, here she was, eight years after that, a career in the making.
The warm earthy smell of the Starbucks enveloped her as she sat sipping gingerly from her cup of earl grey tea. Outside, the leaves of Central Park had almost all fallen off of the trees, and the famous hot and muggy New York summer had turned into a crisp and cool New York autumn. The sun had begun its descent, alerting Rachel that it was time to leave the comfortable refuge of her neighborhood coffee shop. Standing up, she wrapped her scarf around her neck, buttoned up her coat, and waved a quick goodbye to the baristas. She stepped outside, and began to walk eagerly towards her destination. The lights of the Schubert Theatre were bright and welcoming as Rachel approached. She turned into an alleyway, spotted the entrance labeled "Stage Door," and quickly ducked inside.
"Good evening, Emma!" Rachel said to the woman at the desk. Emma smiled brightly at Rachel and handed her a small key.
"Big night tonight, Miss Berry." Emma returned with a wink. Rachel smiled in return and walked down the hallway until she found the small door that read "RACHEL BERRY" in bold letters. Her fingers traced the shiny red shoe that was found next to her name plate before she unlocked the door and entered the room.
She slipped off the worn pair of bright red ballet flats- the pair that had landed the audition, seen many dance rehearsals, voice lessons, run-throughs, and readings. They were slightly stretched, slightly scuffed, and well worn in, but they had done their job. The shoes had been on her feet as she moved into her first New York City apartment. They had been on her feet as she braved the masses in open audition calls. They had been on her feet for every callback and rejection. They had been on her feet through successes and through failures. They had seen her through the workshops, rehearsals, and performances of little independent plays that meant very little. Now, she took them off, the red leather just barely reflecting light. It was time to move on to bigger and better things. Tonight they would be placed on a shelf where they would remain.
She reached into a bag and pulled out another shoebox. She carefully opened the lid and pulled back the tissue paper. The shoes were ruby red, sparkling brilliantly in the light. They were nothing like their dull and trusty counterpart. They were brand new, unblemished, untouched. Rachel slipped them onto her feet and tightened the straps. She took a few steps around her dressing room, getting used to the feel and the slight heel. They were slightly stiff. Surely, they would rub blisters on her feet, but that was a price to be paid.
Rachel found herself to be a person that possessed a great deal of self-confidence. She knew who she was, where she was going, and exactly how to get there. It was never a matter of if she would reach her goals, but when. Tonight, however, was a different monster. Plagued by insecurities, the what-ifs ran through her mind- "What if I'm not good enough? What if I forget the choreography? What if they hate me?" She glanced to her trusty red shoes. No, she would be fine. She had rehearsed this a million times. She knew the subtle intricacies of her character. She knew the notes, the words, and the steps by heart. She had a cast beside her that was phenomenal. She had a crew that loved and supported her. Her family would be watching her. Her mother would get tears in her eyes because "Her baby had finally succeeded!" Her father would be the first one to stand as the curtain went down. She looked at the dozens of flowers in her dressing room. Roses, lilies, dahlias, and even the occasional tacky carnation filled baskets and vases on every flat surface of her dressing room. Each came from someone who loved her and cared about her. Some from people who didn't even know her at all, but wished her the best. She glanced through the cards. One caught her attention. "You have got to discover you, what you do, and trust it. –Barbra Streisand." Rachel knew who she was, and what she wanted to do. The fears were there, yes, but they would not take precedence in her mind. Not tonight.
She slipped on the gingham jumper, reveling in the feel of the brand new garment. She brushed through her hair gently, then plaited it into two tight braids. She gently put on her makeup, taking great care in applying the subtle freckles to her cheeks. She stood up, reached for the wicker basket on the table next to her, and turned to look in the full length mirror. The red shoes she wore shimmered in the light and stood out against her stark white tights. The dress fit with ease. She looked directly ahead. The eyes that she met in the glass were not her own. Instead, she saw a small girl with an incredible journey ahead of her.
"FIVE MINUTES!" sounded from the intercom. She stepped out of her dressing room and made her way to stage right, passing a scarecrow, a tin man, and a cowardly lion, each offering their wishes of luck. Over the course of the next two and a half hours, she would sing of a yellow brick road and a land over the rainbow. She would brave the wizard and melt a witch. This was it. She took her place on the stage as the sounds of the orchestra filled her ears. She took a deep breath, and the curtain went up. Her voice filled the house of the theatre. She was home.
Two and a half hours later, Rachel stood once again in the spotlight, bowing with a bright smile on her face. The light was bright in her eyes as she squinted back the tears. She smiled through three more curtain calls. Her eyes traveled across the stage, meeting the glances of her talented cast mates. She looked into the audience and saw her parents and friends smiling brightly and clapping proudly. The light hit the red shoes that had taken her through the performance. The curtain went down for a final time, and she had made it. She was on Broadway. Somewhere over the rainbow, dreams really do come true.
So that's it! Just a little fluffy heartwarming one shot. Hope y'all like it!
